


Sensory Deprivation

by nekosmuse_archive (nekosmuse)



Category: Without a Trace
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:40:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23739238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekosmuse/pseuds/nekosmuse_archive
Summary: Written pre 2005. Posting for archival purposes.Mornings.
Relationships: Martin Fitzgerald/Danny Taylor
Kudos: 6





	Sensory Deprivation

Small spread of warmth and it takes him a moment to recognize the source.

The night's still a blur, a foggy haze of too much adrenalin and too little sleep. Hours bleeding together, melting into the rising sun that now sits high on the horizon. Tiny flashes of skin and sweat and he can still taste Martin on his tongue; sharp and bitter and so primal his cock twitches at the memory.

He doesn't remember making the decision to follow Martin home, only the flurry of need and pent up desire that caused them to rush. Didn’t even make it through the door before coats were shed and ties were thrown haphazardly across the room. He's fairly certain one of his shoes is hidden under the couch but he can’t recall how it got there.

Stiff hardness and he recalls not making it to the bedroom. Isn't quite sure how they ended up on the garish Turkish rug -patterns blending together into an infinite design only the maker understood- only that it's preferable to the dark oak floors that, while stunning and very Martin, are also hard and not conducive to comfort.

Laughs a little at that because Martin's sense of decor really shouldn't be his first priority, not when the man himself is spooned against his side, his body radiating heat and making it hard to concentrate on anything but the pale expanse of chest peeking out from under the Egyptian cotton blanket. And only Martin would own one of those and keep it in his living room.

He remembers the case. Hours of frustration eventually leading them to an abandoned warehouse in the harbor district. Remembers the thrill of finally finding the girl, alive for once. Remembers running through dark and dingy alleys as they chased the suspect, catching him and the only thing better than saving a victim is bringing the suspect to justice.

Remembers the ride back, the energy spiking off Martin as he drove; a little too fast and a lot too reckless but he didn't complain because for once their day had gone well. Remembers the light in Martin's eye, the shine he hadn't seen in months and didn't even know he missed until there it was; sparkling with an intensity that still causes him to shiver.

The rest comes in flashes. Martin pinned against the door, Martin writhing beneath him. Martin's tongue entwine around his own, Martin thrusting against him, throaty moans and the scent of Martin's neck. The last so vivid he breathes deep, inhaling Martin's scent, blended together with his own and underlined with the faint residual tang of sex.

Contemplates waking Martin because now he's hard and all he can think about is the warm, surprisingly strong body lying next to him. He decides against it, telling himself he's not afraid Martin will regret this, not worried awkwardness will descend between them like a black fog, heavy and oppressive until one of them is forced to transfer and then where will he be? Annoying that Martin of all people could make him this insecure when not once in his life has he let someone get so deep under his skin. Seems there are exceptions to every rule.

Can't worry about it now because Martin's moaning, shifting closer as he fights against the black tide of slumber and any minute now Danny will be forced to stare into the murky depths of Martin's eyes and he's still not certain what he expects to find there.

"Please tell me we don't have to go in today," Martin groans, his voice thick with sleep.

And just like that relief washes over Danny and he wonders why he was worried to begin with. Wonders if he should be concerned because it's so unlike him he feels foreign and lost.

"Not unless something pressing comes up," he manages, smirking in spite of himself and this he can handle.

"Thank god," Martin replies and Danny's laughing before he can stop himself. "It's not funny, I don't think I can move," Martin continues and there's reproach in his tone, but it’s underlined with amusement so Danny's not worried.

"Told you you'd be sore this morning," Danny laughs and he did, even though he can't recall the exact details of the conversation.

"It was worth it."

Doesn't have a response for that so he shifts closer, molding himself into Martin's side and earning a throaty growl for his efforts. Likes the sound so he presses closer, thrusting his erection into Martin's thigh and that earns him a whimper.

"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" Martin asks but there's mirth in his tone so Danny does it again, relishing the feel of Martin shivering beside him.

"Mmm, actually I much prefer you alive," Danny replies and he doesn't want to think about what that means because the thought of Martin dead is too much to handle so he closes his eyes and wills the image to vanish.

Eyes come open as Martin turns, settling into Danny's arms and brushing their erections together, the action sending sparks of pleasure racing along Danny's spine. So intense he doesn't realize he's surged forward until Martin’s lips part beneath him, allowing him to taste himself on Martin’s tongue.

The kiss brings back a flood of memories, strange that a simple sweep of Martin's tongue should bring it all back. The feel of Martin surrounding him, the sharp grunt of pleasure as Danny slid inside tight heat, the warmth of Martin's breath on his neck as they rocked together in a rhythm older than time. It makes him crave it even more; knowing reality is better than memory and needing the experience.

Breaks away only when oxygen becomes a necessity and wishes for once he didn't need to breathe. Presses his forehead to Martin's, panting hard and getting more of Martin's breath than actual air but he can't be bothered moving because he doesn't think anything has ever felt this incredible.

Shivers at the feel of sweat trickling down his back and Martin tightens his hold, wrapping long legs around his waist and arching up in invitation. Half worried Martin's still too sore for this but it doesn't stop him from blindly seeking out the box of condoms he briefly recalls from last night. Finds them under the coffee table, his hand shaking slightly as he tears into foil and wills himself not to come at the sight of Martin's flushed skin and dilated pupils.

Knows he should take the time to find the small bottle of lube but it's out of sight and Martin's mewing, his trusts more persistent so Danny spits into his hand before running slick fingers along his length. Glances up long enough to find Martin watching him, his lips parted and breathing erratic, the sight sending a wave of liquid heat straight to Danny’s groin.

Doesn't give Martin warning before pressing forward, slipping inside and he knows Martin will forgive him, knows Martin will understand. Thinks Martin doesn't even care because his head has fallen back, exposing his neck and Danny just has to taste. Leans forward to run his tongue from collarbone to Adam’s apple, the movement pulling him deeper and causing them both to groan, the sound echoing through the otherwise silent room.

Martin tastes of musk and sweat and something purely Martin. Purely male.

In a delirious moment of pleasure he wonders if Martin's taste is addictive. At the very least he's certain it's an aphrodisiac; considers bottling it and selling it alongside oysters and passion fruit. Doesn’t want to share so he swallows the thought along with Martin's moan in a kiss that's all teeth and tongues and heat.

Rhythm is lost to reckless abandon as he feels himself edging towards climax, knows Martin's not far behind. Finds it odd that he can recognize the glazed look after only one night but likes that he knows Martin so well. Knows something he's fairly certain few people have seen. Strange sense of pride at being the one to bring out this side of Martin but before he can contemplate the thought he's coming hard, flashes of light dancing behind his eyes and making him light headed. He’s only dimly aware of wetness hitting his stomach; covering him in sticky dampness and a sense of awe floats somewhere beyond the void.

Comes to long enough to withdraw, the loss so apparently his chest constricts. Opens his eyes to find ceiling, stark white, illuminated with bars of sunlight and he can still hear Martin panting next to him. Realizes he's grinning and forces himself to relax, turning slightly to take in the sight of Martin spent and half conscious.

"Okay, now I definitely can't move," Martin comments, the words barely auditable.

"Sorry." Is all Danny can manage but Martin laughs anyway, turning his head, his eyes flittering open to meet Danny’s stare.

"Once again, worth it," Martin replies and it’s Danny turns to laugh.

Sharp stab of hunger, almost unwanted in the moment of post sex bliss but Danny knows neither of them has eaten in days. Forces himself to his elbows; not bothering to hide his grin this time.

"You hungry?" he asks, glancing next to him just in time to watch Martin’s own grin spread across his face.

"I could eat, I think I might even have bagels in the fridge," Martin replies, not making any move to get up.

The thought of making Martin breakfast seems odd but strangely right. Like anything else would somehow diminish the moment so he pushes himself up, his legs trembling and not quite steady. Ignores it, along with the need for clothes as he makes his way to the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers until he finally finds what he’s looking for.

There’s an order to it, like most things in Martin’s life, and Danny finds himself actually understanding it, the thought far more frightening than anything he can remember feeling. Pushes it aside as he becomes aware of another presence. Turns to find Martin watching him from the doorway, the blanket tied loosely around his waist.

"What?" he asks at Martin’s amused expression.

"You’re naked in my kitchen," Martin teases, smirking as his eyes sweep across Danny’s form.

Two short strides bring him directly in front of Martin. His hands immediately seek out the small knot of cotton, pulling until it unravels, leaving Martin bare and exposed. "There, now we’re even," he comments, laughing at his own private joke.

Laughs again as Martin rolls his eyes before leaning forward for a kiss and then brushing past Danny to take up the task of toasting breakfast.


End file.
